The Defence Professor
by WhatHappensNext23
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart is exposed as a fraud and Dumbledore is panicking. He needs a new DADA professor, fast. What about the witch who exposed him? Camelia Castor finds Hogwarts rife with incompetence. Why is no-one doing anything about this Chamber of Secrets business?
1. Gilderoy Lockhart, Fraud!

Chapter 1: Gilderoy Lockhart, Fraud!

Gilderoy Lockhart was enjoying his ice castle at the Dragon Den, an upscale restaurant in Diagon Alley. The elaborate desert was frozen into the shape of Hogwarts, and miniature marzipan people waved up at him. Just the thing to celebrate his position as Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher. He was already experiencing an uptick in sales, having assigned his book series as the textbook for all years.

A fan approached, a witch with hag blood somewhere in her ancestry. He pasted on his Smile No.3 and brought out the parchment and quill he carried on him constantly. She assured him she was waiting with anticipation for the upcoming release of his autobiography, _Magical Me_. Always happy to indulge a fan, Gilderoy spent a few minutes chatting with her, skilfully ignoring her flirting and trying to avoid looking at the wart on her nose. It drew attention like a beacon. It was offensive to beauty everywhere. Gilderoy smoothed back his perfectly coiffed hair.

Now the witch sitting on the table next to him had a fine pair of tits. She was accompanied by an older couple, presumably her parents. He listened into their conversation. It seemed to be a banal catch-up session. The older witch had a German accent, and Gilderoy was reminded of his visit there a few years ago to find material for _Travels with Trolls._ That wizard who defeated three trolls at once only spoke German, so Gilderoy was forced to pay a large amount of money to acquire the language magically. Caught up in reminiscing, Gilderoy was startled when the older witch finally said something interesting.

"How did you end up defeating that hydra in Africa you mentioned in your letter, Camelia?"

"It was rather difficult. It was a solo kill, for starters, as the villagers only had enough money to hire one mercenary. With skilled use of the cutting curse and then quickly cauterising the stumps with fire spells I stopped the heads regrowing, although I wasn't quick enough on the fire a few times and had to contend with a couple more heads," the young witch explained. "When it was decapitated it lost its invulnerability and I got it with a cutting curse to the heart."

Excellent! This sounded like a perfect story for his next book, and Gilderoy didn't even have to leave the country. Some African villagers were hardly likely to read his book. It sounded as if Camelia was a skilled fighter, unlikely to be taken by a surprise with an _Oblivate_ as some of his other victims. No matter; she was attractive enough, it would be no hardship to seduce the full story out of her and do a memory charm while she slept. The mother looked much less fierce, and unless Gilderoy missed his guess the father was a muggle. He was wearing muggle clothes, and Gilderoy couldn't see a wand. The parents should be easy enough to obliviate.

With that in mind Gilderoy ordered a glass of expensive firewhiskey for Camelia. She seemed surprised when the waiter brought it to her, and when she glanced his way he raised his own glass in salute. She smiled in thanks, but cast numerous detection spells on the firewhiskey before drinking it. Paranoid witch. Afterwards, she approached his table.

"Top notch firewhisky. I'm Camelia Castor," she said, extending her hand. He kissed it. She raised an eyebrow at the old-fashioned gesture.

"Gilderoy Lockhart, it was the least I could do for a beautiful witch like you," he said, making sure to display his award-winning Smile No.1.

"The celebrity adventurer? What a fortuitous meeting. I myself am a mercenary. It would be interesting to swap stories sometime," Camelia replied.

"A fortuitous meeting indeed, Camelia, may a call you Camelia?" Without stopping for agreement, he continued, "I would love to share my travels with you. Say here, tomorrow night?" Gilderoy gave his best enticing look.

"Alright," Camelia agreed, "seven o'clock?"

And so, her fate was set.

As he expected, after a lengthy dinner during which Gilderoy recounted the long since memorised tales in his books, she was more than willing to enjoy a night in the sheets. Enthusiastic shagging ensued.

Gilderoy watched as Camelia's dark hair spilled over the pillow. Her breathing was even. Careful not to make a sound, he reached for his wand. He would need to remove the 10th of June to the 27th, as well as the last two nights where she told the tale to her parents and spent the night with him. He concentrated, " _Obliviate._ "

Camelia started awake at the sound and rolled over, the spell missing her by an inch. In an instant, she was holding her own wand, and cast a silent disarming spell followed by an Incarcerous. Gilderoy's wand flew out of his hand, and thick ropes sprung out of nowhere and bound him.

"What were you trying to do, Gilderoy," she demanded, levelling her wand at him. He stayed silent. She lowered her wand to his private bits.

"Alright, I'll talk," he said in sudden fright, "just point your wand somewhere else." She lowered it to her side. Gilderoy explained fans often gossiped about nights in his bed, so he made a practise of Obliviating them. Camelia called bullshit, and cast a tickling hex. Perfectly legal, it was extremely painful if left on for too long. Finally, Gilderoy explained his proclivity for illegal Obliviation.

Camelia pulled on her clothes and left to floo call the Aurors from Gilderoy's fireplace. She was disgusted. She had thought him attractive enough, if a bit full of himself. Not only was he pompous ass, it appeared Gilderoy was a lying ass lacking any morals. She never expected him to attack her. Hired to deal with witches and wizards causing trouble on a regular basis, she woke up as soon as she heard the Obliviate and automatically moved. Compared them, Gilderoy was small potatoes.

The Aurors cracked a few jokes when they found Gilderoy naked and bound in ropes, but they carted him off willingly enough. Only the Aurors, primarily the sub-department the Obliviators, could perform Obliviations. There was also the fraud charge, so he was looking at a few years in Azkaban. Camelia can already picture the book title: _Date_ _with a Dementor_.

The trial was watched by two extremes. Tearful fans of the adventurer called out they still loved him, shooting Camelia dirty looks. Angry fans shouted insults, and congratulated her. Cameila recited her witness statement, and the Wizenmagot conferred.

Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore had a problem. The _Daily Prophet_ proclaimed GILDEROY LOCKHART, FRAUD accompanied by a picture of a that famous smile trapped behind bars. It was the 10th of August and he was now lacking a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor for the upcoming school year. Gilderoy had been the only applicant, so although Dumbledore had become suspicious of his claims when he asked a few questions to test the man's knowledge, there had been no other option but to hire him.

Dumbledore sucked on a lemon drop as he pondered. Perhaps that witch who uncovered Lockhart's crimes would be willing to teach? According to the _Daily Prophet,_ Amelia Cartor was a skilled mercenary who employed her expertise in sex magic to take Lockhart down. He wondered if she was descended from a Veela. A bit of investigative work revealed her name was in fact Camelia Castor and she had graduated from Durmstrang twelve years ago. While Durmstrang taught Dark Arts, she herself had a clean reputation as a skilled mercenary who took down Dark witches and wizards as well as dangerous creatures. Alastor Moody reported she had no Veela blood as far as he knew, and had defeated Gilderoy with an Expelliarmus and an Incarcerous. Promising. Albus Dumbledore quickly penned a letter and sent it off with Fawkes. A phoenix usually got people's attention.

Camelia was enjoying a leisurely lunch at her flat. It was empty most of the year, and she thought she should come home to Britain more often. Her parents were astonished when she stuck around after the trial, but she felt the need for a break from adventuring. This Lockhart stuff had dimmed her enthusiasm for the profession.

When flame roared on her kitchen table, her wand was drawn immediately. If a phoenix could look surprised, she would say this one did. She had never seen a phoenix before, but it was easy enough to recognise. Shining red and gold plumage and appearing in fire. It didn't appear to be hostile, perching calmly on her table. Camelia noticed a letter on its leg. A phoenix reduced to a messenger bird? After checking for any nasty surprises, she removed it.

 _Dear Ms Castor_

 _May I congratulate you on the skillful unmasking of Lockhart's illegal activities. You prevented me from making a grave mistake, as he was to commence teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts this year. I would like to offer you the now vacant position, having heard tales of your expertise in duelling. As the school term begins very soon, please attach your reply to Fawkes, the phoenix who brought this letter, within the next five hours._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Albus Dumbledore_

 _Headmaster of Hogwarts_

A teacher? She didn't know the first thing about how to teach kids. Wasn't there some rumour about the Defence position at Hogwarts? Yes, that's right, it was said there was a jinx on the position as no Defence teacher had lasted more than a year for the last thirty years or so. It appeared to have struck very early this year.

Sounded kind of interesting. And she was sure she would be an improvement over Lockhart at the very least. Hadn't she just been thinking she wanted a break from being a mercenary? Camelia was slowly convincing herself.

"May as well meet with him and talk about," she muttered, levitating paper and quill towards her. Fawkes disappeared in a ball of flame.

Phoenix communication was nearly as instant as the telephone, so they soon agreed to meet at the Leaky Cauldron that night to discuss it further. Dumbledore was satisfied. He was sure he could persuade her.

Over a roast dinner Ms Castor asked many intelligent questions, and he knew he had made the right choice. He explained there was no set curriculum, she was simply required to teach material appearing on the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. In what order and how she did so was up to her. Currently, students are buying the full set of Lockhart's books as their textbooks. It was too late to change the booklist. Over the years he had made many attempts to discover the cause of the curse, but alas they were all in vain. She could not teach any spells forbidden by the Ministry of Magic, or any spells classified as Dark Arts.

At the end of their discussion, by which time his mouth was quite dry, Camelia gave her answer. "I'll do it one condition. You change the name of the subject to Defence. No Against the Dark Arts. If a jinx is attached to the position, that may prevent it from striking. Also, I plan on teaching defence to more than just the Dark Arts."

Dumbledore employed Occlumency to keep his face from showing any surprise. What an elegant solution. If it worked, he could finally keep a Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts for more than a year.

"Agreed," he replied, and they shook hands. She would move into the castle in three weeks time to be filled in on all the details and for the staff meeting before term began. He had a feeling he might have finally hired a competent Defence teacher.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy almost dropped the letter he was holding into his tea. Catching it just in time, he ignored Narcissa's disapproving glance and Draco's gaping stare.

Dumbledore wanted to change the name of Defence Against the Dark Arts to Defence. He had hired a Professor who graduated from Durmstrang. It seemed Dumbledore was reducing animosity towards the Dark Arts for him. He quickly sent of an approving reply. Lucius pondered whether to send letters to the other school governors, hinting at reward or blackmail. However, they were all likely to support the change in the hope of removing the remove the curse. This new Defence Professor promised to be very interesting if they'd already done so much before the term even began. Hopefully, Draco might actually learn something.


	2. The Flying Car

Chapter 2: The Flying Car

As soon as she arrived, Dumbledore insisted Camelia be sorted into a Hogwarts house.

"Isn't the point of houses just to sort students into dormitories and provide them with a support system?" Camelia said politely as she could manage.

Dumbledore smiled enigmatically, "It is, but how else will you decide which Quidditch team to support?"

The sorting hat slid right through her hard-won Occlumency barriers, crafted with years of meditation, as though they weren't even there. _Hmmm, not often I get to sort an adult_ , words appeared directly into her brain without going through her ears. _M_ _ore complex than sorting children. Loyal to those you love. Fine mind. Plenty of courage. An element of deviousness beneath it all. Better be…_ SYTHERIN!

Dumbledore seemed satisfied, as though being sorted into one of four options had told him something essential. Crazy, these Hogwarts houses. At Durmstrang it was every man and woman for themselves.

She found the tour of the castle significantly more interesting than whatever some old hat said. Hogwarts inspired an irresistible urge to explore. Tales of secret passageways, hidden rooms and lost treasure provided by an enthusiastic Dumbledore further encouraged her explorer spirit. No, she told herself, you've got to be a responsible teacher and start making lesson plans.

She'll have 12 individual classes. Years 1-5 have two houses per class. Years 6-7 combine all houses for N.E.W.T level defence. Years 5 and 7 will be most difficult. After they've suffered through years of mediocre, unqualified teachers lacking any consistency, she's expected to cram all the material they need for their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in one year. Camelia is also disappointed she won't have time to teach those years about other, non-ministry validated techniques, essential for defence. She's looking forward to the first four years the most. There's still time to salvage their impressionable young minds.

There are five lessons in a day running for fifty minutes each, with a ten-minute break in between to find your way to class (a difficult feat in Hogwarts). Classes start as nine, with three lessons before lunch. After lunch there are two more, finishing at three. Apparently, there's some Astronomy classes at midnight too.

She'll be teaching each class twice a week. That only leaves one lesson a week when she's not teaching a class. Outside of class she's expected to mark hundreds of essays. Already, Camelia is feeling daunted and term hasn't even started yet.

She decided to have lunch in her rooms. They'd be plenty of time to meet all the other Professors, as the staff meeting was in the afternoon. Apparently, Professors have the option of eating in the Great Hall, or in their rooms, except for the Welcoming Feast, which they're required to attend.

Her office is next to the Defence classroom, and by giving a password to the painting behind the desk she can enter her bedroom, bathroom and living area. They're decorated in greens, according to the preference of the last Defence teacher. For some reason, Dumbledore won't say much about him. She changed the walls to light yellow, as the green was rather sickly. She doesn't mind a nice dark emerald, but could do without feeling she's in a hospital waiting room.

At the staff meeting, she's introduced to various Professors. Filius Flitwick shook her hand warmly, and told her she could seek him out whenever she needed anything. After that encouraging pep talk, Minerva McGonagall told her stiffly to keep her students in line. Severus Snape seemed to hate her on sight for some reason. He curled his lip in disgust upon hearing she was the new Defence teacher. Refusing to be discouraged, Camelia vowed she'd be the best Defence Professor this school has ever seen. That won't be difficult, as she's the first one.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, bringing the meeting to order.

"Good afternnon, I trust all your holidays were pleasant," he began with a twinkle in his eye. Camelia stared, fascinated. How did he do that? Some kind of eye drops?

"A few of you have already met our new Defence Professor, Camelia Castor," Camelia gave everyone a little wave, then dropped her hand awkwardly. Great. They're probably think she's an idiot now. She'd also stopped paying attention, and refocused on Dumbledore again. It's just routine stuff, and the meeting quickly comes to an end. The other teachers immediately started talking amongst themselves. Camelia felt a bit out of place. In school, she never had to worry about fitting in. No, her worries were about survival. After graduation, she made friends on her travels, none whom she stayed in contact with. She debated the merits of interrupting a conversation or leaving like that Professor with the hair sticking everywhere who smelt of sherry.

"Hello, Ms Castor, I'm Aurora Sinistra," a voice came from her left. Camelia turned to face one of the most beautiful women she's ever seen. Hair darker than her own, a dusky skin to match and gorgeous brown eyes. Aurora extended her hand, and until that moment Camelia hadn't known it was possibly to extend a hand gracefully. Apparently, it was. Normally, Camelia was perfectly happy with her own looks, as scars and muscles tend to automatically garner respect. Currently, she felt like a freshly hatched phoenix.

"Nice to meet you, call me Camelia," she replied, shaking the woman's hand. "So, what do you teach?"

"Astronomy," said Aurora. Camelia attempts to keep her disdain off her face. Astronomy used to be of relevance to rituals and divination, both of which have fallen out of fashion. Currently, astronomy is a bit of a wish-washy subject with little relevance to magic. For some reason, it's a core class at Hogwarts. Aurora saw the look on her face.

"I know some people think Astronomy is no longer relevant, but I believe it still holds importance. It teaches us we're unimportant in the grand scheme of things compared to the vastness of the universe. I include some Muggle findings in it, which always astonishes the pureblood students and I hope opens their minds. Not to mention, the night sky is breathtaking," Aurora argued. She spoke passionately, and her reasoning was sound. Camelia finds herself softening a towards the subject. They chatted some more. Aurora seemed nice, definite friend potential. Which is good, because she'll need someone to talk to during meals.

Speaking of meals, her lunch seemed to be quintessential English fare: roast and vegetables. She mentioned this to Aurora, who told her that's what the house-elves make every day as it's what most students prefer. Just when Camelia was dreading the prospect, she laughed, and added the house-elves were happy to take requests.

The following week, Camelia is too busy to say more than hello to Aurora at meals.

She slept an average of four hours a night and took numerous Stay-Awake potions in a Herculean effort to be prepared for the hundreds of students about to inundate the halls. Digging through the notes of previous Defence Professors, Camelia noticed a few trends. For starters, it seemed like most them didn't teach much at all. First and second years seemed to learn about two spells a year on average. Third years tended to focus on defending against dangerous creatures. They tried to teach duelling to the upper years, with generally disastrous results.

Camelia came up with a basic outline. First years she plans on teaching dodging and common sense, they won't be up for much else yet. Second year she'll introduce a few defensive and offensive spells. Third year will be defending against magical creatures. Fourth year a theoretical overview of the Dark Arts and how to defend against them. Sixth years will get lessons in duelling. Fifth and seventh years she'll test their knowledge and attempt to cover all gaps for their upcoming exams. O.W.L.s. and N.E.W.T.s are considered of the utmost importance in the United Kingdom.

She also has another project; remodelling the Defence Classroom. It needs a substantial expansion. For this, she asks Professor Flitwick's help. Bending physics isn't easy, and it's a complicated charm not many people can do. Otherwise everyone would be living in a mansion. Three separate environments are designed. Firstly, a miniature town with plenty of cover for students to hide and lay traps. They can practise surviving in an urban environment where most attacks occur. Secondly, an open environment with mirrors lining the walls where they can duel and learn spells. Finally, desks are delegated to the far right of classroom out of the way for theory lessons. Pictures of the twelve basic wand movements and histories of famous Darks Ladies and Lords line the walls around that area.

By the time of the Welcoming Feast, Camelia is exhausted. She wished she could fall asleep at the table, but she must make a good impression on the students.

McGonagall led the first years into Great Hall. They looked so small and overwhelmed. Camelia noticed Snape slip out of his seat.

"Where's he going?" She wondered out loud.

"Haven't you heard?" Aurora, who was sitting beside her, said in surprise, "Two second-year Gryffindor students stole their parent's car and flew it to Hogwarts. About seven muggles saw it along the way. Dumbledore was just telling the teachers that according to the monitoring charms an Unidentified Flying Object just entered the grounds." Camelia is astonished, but Aurora wasn't finished, "One of the students was Harry Potter," she added.

Harry Potter. The-Boy-Who-Lived. She's heard of him, of course. Camelia was seven when the British Dark Lord first started gathering supporters. By the time she left to attend her mother's old school, Durmstrang, it had escalated into random attacks on Muggleborns, Muggles, magical races, anyone who stood in the way of Lord Voldemort. Except for Giants, Dementors and Werewolves, to whom they preached a progressive attitude for more rights, leading to the largely held belief all werewolves were on You-Know-Who's side. It was hard to say whether this helped his cause or hindered it, as purebloods on both sides hated the magical creatures, who they viewed as savage beasts.

At Durmstrang, she learned to keep her true opinions on Voldermort's cause to herself. About a third of the students were outspoken supporters, a third had sympathies with his cause and the remainder were neutral or against. She was in a minority.

By the time she graduated, it had progressed to a full-blown war back in England. Camelia returned to live with her parents in muggle London and help with the war effort. She wanted to fight so went through the basic training required as a 'Volunteer Responder.' Compared to seven years at Durmstrang with the stigma of a muggle father, it was a breeze. She'd just graduated from the program, and the situation was looking rather hopeless, when Voldemort was defeated by a baby.

"What's he like?" She asked Aurora. She'd never quite believed the story. How could a baby survive when fully-trained adults could not? There must be more to it.

"Seems like a good kid," Aurora said. "No particular talent for Astronomy, but does his homework and stays quiet in class."

She wondered what Harry Potter would be like at Defence. Perhaps someone who defeated a Dark Lord before he left diapers wouldn't have anything left to learn. That reminded her of another topic.

"Aurora, what happened to the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor? Dumbledore was quite close-mouthed about him," Camelia asked.

"Yes, I think he's ashamed. Quirrell used to teach Muggle Studies and went to Albania to gather experience for Defence position. He returned with a stutter which made it rather hard for students to learn correct pronunciation for spells. Everyone thought he'd just been traumatised after being attacked by vampires. Then at the end of the school year he attacked Harry Potter. Turns out he was a supporter of You-Know-Who," said Aurora, reaching for the peas as though she hadn't just dropped an exploding wand.

"Attacked a student? Is he in Azkaban?"

"No, Potter killed Quirrell in self-defence."

"Why are you so blasé about this?" Camelia asked in astonishment.

"Well, the Defence Professors regularly die in some gruesome manner," said Aurora. "It wasn't a shock."

Camelia now started to seriously doubt her own decision to accept the position. Would changing the name of the class be enough to prevent the jinx from striking? Attaching a jinx or a curse to an abstract concept was rather obscure, and she'd only heard a few examples of it, like the Taboo on Voldemort's name during the war. Further investigation was required.

After dinner, she retired to her rooms to prepare for the day ahead. First up tomorrow was everyone in 6th Year in Defence. Due to the high failure rate on the O.W.L.s there was only twelve students in the class. Most of these were pureblood or half-bloods, able to receive private tutoring at home. Camelia fell asleep clutching her colour coded timetable and pondering the best way to make an entrance.

* * *

Authors Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, favourited (is that a word?) or followed.


	3. Professor 1 Students 0

AN: Thanks to my reviewers, who inspired me to knock this chapter out. Also some of the information regarding Defence may contradict things in the books, but as many things were never really explained I feel justified in making up my own explanations. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3: Professor 1 Students 0

Camelia felt her stomach clench. Toast had never looked so unappealing. Aurora snorted besides her, and Camelia looked up, startled out of her stupor by the sound.

"You poor thing. I remember my first day teaching," she said.

"What happened?" Camelia asked.

"Everything went perfectly and the students loved me," replied Aurora, to the general laughter of the professors seated within hearing distance.

"Fine, I dropped a telescope on a student's foot and broke it. The foot, not the telescope."

Camelia laughed, and felt the weight pressing down lessen. No broken bones was a low standard to beat.

When she mentioned her desire to impress the students straight off, Aurora gave her tips on other teacher's methods. The Gryffindor and Slytherin heads, much like the houses they represented, both had a flare for the dramatic. McGonagall enjoyed pretending to be her Animagus form, and surprising unsuspecting first years when she turned back into a woman. Snape regularly delivered a very poetic speech which had the other Professor's praising his writing talent, to the consternation of the Potions Professor.

Camelia decided on a practical exam. Sixth-years wandered into her classroom to be confronted with an enchanted mist, through which the castor could see clearly while their victim's vision was obscured. It only required a Finite Incatatum to dispel.

Five students immediately drew their wands, revealing a greater understanding of Defence than their peers. A scarlet spell slammed into a red-headed student, who without a wand drawn couldn't even attempt to defend himself. Now all the students drew their wands. It didn't help. Spells sped out of no-where, and one by one they collapsed on floorboards charmed to cushion. A few students managed to deflect the first stunner with a shield spell, but weren't expecting the second following immediately after. They too fell.

Percy Weasley woke to find himself seated at a desk. There was nothing particularly strange about this, he was at school after all, except he couldn't remember how he arrived there. He'd entered the classroom for Double Defence to an unusual fog. He felt like he'd fallen asleep, but that was ridiculous. Percy Weasley would never fall asleep in class.

"Excuse me, can you tell me what has transpired?" he asked Rayna McMillian, a Ravenclaw he was passingly acquainted with.

"Death," came the answer from the front of the room. Professor Castor surveyed the confused and wary students.

"You are pitiful at Defence," Percy felt a spark of indignation at his. He'd achieved an Exceeds Expectation on his O.W.L.s. "It's no less than I expected, given the standard of previous Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors." Around him Percy saw other students murmuring angrily. They themselves could bad mouth the school, but outsiders couldn't. It was rumoured Professor Castor attended Durmstrang.

"Dark Arts. Can anyone tell me what, precisely, the Dark Arts are?" Professor Castor interrupted the mutterers.

Percy immediately raised his hand. He must excel in this class and uphold the Gryffindor name. Only one other Gryffindor had made it into N.E.W.T Defence, and Percy felt a responsibility to prove his house was capable. The rest of the students were comprised of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, with one lone Hufflepuff. A couple of Ravenclaws also raised their hands, but to Percy's satisfaction it was he who was picked to answer.

"Yes you, what's your name?" Professor Castor looked at him.

"Percy Weasley, Professor. The Dark Arts are dangerous spells banned by the ministry," he replied. Professor Castor did not award him points, but stared at him intently. Percy felt unnerved. He wondered how she received those scars.

"Then, Mr Weasley, what makes these spells so dangerous as to be banned by the ministry?"

"Because they are Dark Arts, Professor." As he answered, a bead of sweat appeared on Percy's forehead. There was something wrong with that answer. A couple of Slytherins tittered.

"Circular logic," rebuked the Professor. "Furthermore, there are Dark Art spells endorsed by the ministry, and other non-Dark spells banned." Percy clenched his hands. Throughout his school history, every answer he volunteered had been correct.

"Can anyone provide me with a more meaningful definition?" continued the Professor. The class was silent.

Camelia waited. Surely one of them knew the true, non-ministry approved answer. Slytherin house, she had been told, was composed of students from traditional, pureblood families. Such families used the Dark Arts for centuries before it was banned. Many were still suspected of using it. Finally, the lone Hufflepuff raised his hand.

"Yes?" She asked.

"Nicholas Macmillan. The Dark Arts are spells requiring emotion to cast," he said.

"Five points to Hufflepuff," awarded Camelia. Apparently, the students went crazy for these points, which confused her. All they won was a trophy.

"Returning to your comment, Mr. Weasley, most Dark Arts are banned not for the damage they cause to others, but the damage they cause to their castor. Addiction, increases in aggression, loss of empathy, mood swings, loss of logical reasoning, decreases in fertility." Prevention was worth a pound of cure. Camelia firmly believed that. How did the ministry expect to discourage people from the Dark Arts if the negative side effects were not publicised?

"For the remainder of the lesson I want you, with a partner, to come up with answers to the following questions. What is a Dark Wizard? Name one Dark spell not banned, and one non-Dark spell banned."

Percy was paired up with the Hufflepuff. He was still in a daze from giving the wrong answer, and was feeling rather resentful of his partner.

"Obviously, a Dark wizard is one who uses the Dark Arts," he said, determined to regain his lost pride. The Hufflepuff gave him a pitying look.

"Circular logic again," Nicholas said. Percy's dislike of the Hufflepuff deepened into hatred.

They spent the remainder of the lesson debating theories. Macmillan expanded the definition to a wizard who used emotion fuelled spells repeatedly, but they couldn't agree on a definition of repeatedly. Percy thought a Dark spell once every sixth months counted, while Macmillan believed a more frequent every fortnight was necessary to be considered a Dark Wizard.

Percy, always one to go above and beyond, had researched the Patronus Charm for his O.W.L.s last year. Ministry Aurors used it frequently to repel Dementors. That was their Dark spell not banned. The opposite was trickier, as neither Nicholas or Percy had attempted to learn Ministry banned spells, and as such had no idea how to cast them. Therefore, they didn't know which ones required emotion to cast. It was a Slytherin duo behind them who revealed an answer. Of the Unforgiveable curses both Cruciatus and the Killing Curse required hatred. The Imperius curse required nothing more than the correct technique. It was banned for its immorality, and its immense destructive potential in the hands of the unscrupulous.

Professor Castor called the class to order a few minutes before the bell rang.

"For homework, consider how you could have been prevented being knocked unconscious at the beginning of this lesson. I will be putting your answers to a practical test next week." This provoked mixed reactions. Some students, particularly those who drew their wand when confronted with the unknown, looked excited, while the students who dropped like stones looked unenthusiastic.

Camelia was exhausted, and she still had one more class before lunch. The third year Gryffindor Slytherins. She didn't attack these students just yet, thinking she'd wait a while to traumatise them. Instead she posed questions and opened the floor to discussion. What made a creature Dark?

Both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors seemed to think a snake was automatically a Dark creature, but she guided them away from that strange British notion by giving them a proper definition of the Dark Arts. It was Katie Bell who made the insightful leap to creatures, earning five points to Gryffindor. Only Dementors, who fed on emotion, and to whom long-term exposure caused similar affects as overuse of the Dark Arts, were truly Dark creatures.

Then she faced her first challenge to her authority as a teacher.

"You're wrong," a boy in a Gryffindor tie called out, "boggarts must be Dark creatures, they feed on fear, everyone knows that."

"Five points for speaking out of turn, Mr…," she paused, allowing him to answer.

"Cormac McLaggen," he responded, scowling.

"Well, Mr. McLaggen, good question although phrased rudely. It is a common misconception Boggarts feed on fear. Boggarts simply engage in a defence mechanism to scare away predators."

She was seeing them again tomorrow, so she didn't assign any homework. As soon as the third years filed out the door, a smile broke out across her face. She had done it. A successful morning, with no broken bones. Still, she had the afternoon to get through.

At lunch, she eavesdropped on the chatter at the Slytherin table, which was located next to the staff. Apart from the occasional lewd comment from some of the boys, it was generally agreed they finally had a good Defence teacher.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Camelia looked up to find Snape glaring at her, as though her competence was a personal insult. She smiled back. Whatever his problem was, she refused to let it kill her high.

After lunch, it was the second year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. The class with Harry Potter. Hermione Granger was the first student to ask if they would be using the assigned books, now that the Gilderoy Lockhart was exposed as a fraud. Camelia replied Gilderoy had stolen the tales from actual experts and most of the information was factual. There were even a few gold nuggets of wisdom. However, she would be teaching them everything they needed to know. They were free to do whatever they liked with the books, but they would not be using them in class. Camelia added she herself ceremoniously burned them after reading, in protest of Gilderoy's immoral acts against herself and others. Hermione gasped, to the amusement of her peers. Then her eyes lit up.

"The Prophet reported Amelia Cartor defeated him, is that you?" Hermione asked excitedly. Camelia admitted she was, which caused an outbreak of whispering. Should she have admitted that? Surely, it would only help her reputation. Anyway, it was time to get on with the lesson.

She asked them to list spells they could cast, and ways they could be used aggressively or defensively. Potter's contribution was one of the most creative and useful, using a lumos to blind someone and then run away. Most students listed either Defence specific spells, such as the Body-Bind, or made illogical suggestions like jabbing someone with a pin transformed from a matchstick. When Camelia asked what to do if they didn't have a matchstick handy, it was Hermione Granger who came up with an ingenious solution. Hair on their heads, long and thin, bore a superficial similarity to a pin, and could also be transfigured. Another interesting contribution was by Padma Patil, who suggested using Wingardium Leviosa to levitate someone off a building. Ah, the gruesome minds of children.

The fifth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were treated to a test of Defence thoery. The Ravenclaws, living up to the stereotype, appeared delighted at this, while the Gryffindors groaned in unison. She reviewed the tests after they left. Big patches of ignorance regarding the Dark Arts, basic duelling techniques, fighting magical creatures. Basically, they were ignorant of everything. Camelia sighed.

Aurora invited her out to the Three Broomsticks that night to celebrate a successful first day. Over butterbeers, Aurora shared some of her funniest stories from five years of teaching.

On one memorable occasion, a seventh year student decided he would Apparate to the moon. He snuck outside the castle gates and focused on the luminous globe. Magical researchers have proven you cannot Apparate through a vacuum. Normally, the student would have appeared in the upper atmosphere and burnt to death. Luckily, the student didn't have too clear an idea of what the moon looked like and ended up in the middle of a nearby muggle construction site consisting of a dirt pit. Aurora discovered this little excursion when the student showed her his "moon rocks".

The conversation turned more personal. Aurora attended Hogwarts during a time when owls were dreaded at breakfast, for the only news they delivered was of death and terror.

Aurora's family remained neutral during the war, along with many other pureblood families. While they would never torture a muggle for fun, there was a tendency to view those without magic as particularly intelligent apes. They weren't motivated to stand against Lord Voldermort with the threat of retribution hanging over their heads. Instead, neutral purebloods holed up in their manors under layers of wards. In her safe house, Aurora spent many nights on the roof, escaping claustrophobia by staring up at drifting galaxies. Her passion for astronomy was born.


	4. Hearing Voices

Chapter 4: Hearing Voices

Camelia woke up screaming. Memories of Morgana were never pleasant. Camelia levitated herself a glass of water, the cool liquid soothing her raw throat. Five years, and she still thought of the witch with a confusing mess of emotions; anger, pity and betrayal. Camelia wondered why those old nightmares of red eyes were returning. To distract herself, she began going over the lesson plans for the day.

Her second day of teaching Camelia dealt with terrified first years, arrogant upper years, and the scariest children she ever had the misfortune of meeting; the Weasley twins. The fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class was the first time she witnessed the infamous rivalry between the two houses.

She started off lecturing on basic Dark magic principles, as fourth year would be mostly theory. For most of it, their identical faces were the picture of innocence; attentive and interested. Halfway through the lesson, everyone on the Slytherin side of the room was turning bright yellow and whenever they opened their mouth to speak a roar or meow emerged. The obvious culprit; the master pranksters in Gryffindor. No-one who looked that innocent was actually innocent.

Camelia couldn't figure out how they slipped the Slytherins the potion. Only potions could produce such long-lasting effects which couldn't be destroyed by spells, yet the Slytherins had not eaten anything during the class. It could be a delayed effect potion, although those were fiendishly difficult to brew. Furthermore, the Slytherins would never accept food from untrustworthy sources, and the house elves would never agree to slip potions into students' food. Her current working theory was they had somehow entered the fourth year Slytherin dormitories and dosed a favourite snack someone brought from home. The Slytherins ate it this morning, and it was timed perfectly to show itself in their after-lunch class with the Gryffindors.

She complimented Snape at dinner in creating such master potioneers, hoping to reduce the animosity he seemed to feel for her. His glare was so intense, Professor Trewlaney gave a squeak of fear and retreated to her tower.

"The Weasley twins are a disgrace to the Wizarding world," Snape spoke curtly, "I certainly played no part in encouraging their mediocre potions skills."

Here McGonagall butted in, "You must admit Severus, very few students have the skill to invent a complex potion in their fourth year."

"I refuse to admit any such thing," Snape said. He stalked off, robes flaring behind him. Camelia admired his exquisite showmanship, even as she wondered why he was so offended by a compliment.

Aurora was shaking in silent laughter beside her. McGonagall smiled like a cat who got the cream, "I've never seen Severus so animated during dinner. I must congratulate you, Professor Castor."

"Call me Camelia," she replied, a little uncertainly. Apparently, all it took to bond with the stern Transfiguration Professor was accidentally offending the Slytherin head of house. She hadn't realised the house rivalries extended to the teachers.

"Camelia, then, you may call me Minerva," the moment of victory was short lived as Minerva continued, "As part of your duties you must oversee detentions. Harry Potter is assigned to you for detention next Saturday evening." Once Camelia acquiesced, Minerva gave a sharp nod and walked off.

Aurora sighed, "Tough luck, she loves fobbing detentions she's assigned off on other Professors. It's generally accepted the Professor who assigned the detention must hold it, but the Deputy Headmistress is too high and mighty for that." She glanced quickly around, to check no students were eavesdropping, before continuing, "Last year she asked Hagrid to hold the detention without checking what he was going to do, and he took first years into the Forbidden Forest." Aurora looked at her expectantly, as though expecting a gasp of horror. Camelia was slightly confused. It was common at Durmstrang for detentions to involve collecting potions ingredients. Realising the source of her confusion, Aurora explained the Forbidden Forest contained both Centaurs and Acromantulas.

Centaurs were notoriously territorial. If they believed a student was invading their land, they would attack with no thought of age. Acromantulas were incredibly predatory, viewing anything breathing as meat. She'd obviously have to adjust the focus of a few of her Defence lessons if both species were so close to the school.

The first year Gryffindors and Slytherins spent half the lesson dodging colour-changing charms she threw at them, and the other half learning how to speak respectfully to a centaur so they wouldn't shoot an arrow through your chest. Ginny Weasley proved particularly talented at dodging, the only first year not to be hit by a single charm; her uniform remained its usual boring black. Camelia awarded five points.

She thought the Slytherins would have their turn to shine in the second half of the lesson, but they proved as ignorant as the Gryffindors. Apparently, their pureblood parents did not feel as if wild beasts were much of a threat. Camelia quickly wiped the superior smirks of their faces when she informed them an arrow travelled faster than a spell. Bullets travelled faster than both, but she wouldn't get into that just yet.

While the fifth year Hufflepuffs proved just as ignorant as their Gryffindor and Ravenclaw counterparts, the Slytherins seemed a little more knowledgeable. Acceptable, rather than a Dreadful. They obviously received some private tutoring, either from their families or in-house.

The weekend arrived. Camelia survived her first three days teaching with dignity, which she quickly lost when she talked about her students and classes excitedly with her parents. They traded amused glances, but didn't interrupt.

"I'm glad you've found a new passion. You were becoming rather apathetic about adventuring," Adelheid said.

Roger, a teacher himself, was pleased she was following in his footsteps. He gave her a few teaching tips, though English possessed few similarities with Defence.

"What is Severus Snape like? His contributions to _Potions Today_ were all inventive and original," asked Adelheid. A brewer for _Potion Panaceas_ in Diagon Alley, she was a skilled potioneer and held a keen interest in the subject.

"Rather rude, though I don't know what he's like as a teacher," Camelia said. Her mother's question reminded her of the need to deal with the issue. Tensions between teachers did not create an environment conducive to learning.

On Sunday morning, she visited the dour Potions Professor in his lair. The dungeons were rather cold and unfriendly. It reminded her of Durmstrang.

Snape looked up from marking papers, face immediately gaining a glare upon seeing her in the doorway. It was rather striking in the low lighting, and the greasiness of his hair was disguised.

"My office hours are for Slytherins, not fellow teachers," he said.

"I was sorted into Slytherin, so your office hours include me," Camelia rebutted.

Severus was too well controlled from his years as a spy to reveal any emotion he did not choose. Nevertheless, he was surprised. When Gilderoy was exposed as a fraud, Severus believed he might have finally been given the opportunity to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Potions was his worst nightmare, dealing with stupid students who didn't appreciate the true subtleties of the subject. Every year he taught the same potions, the same basic theory.

As DADA Professor, he would have free reign to hex annoying students and teach material he hadn't learned by heart in third year. Dumbledore had so far refused him the position, claiming he didn't want to lose his skilled Potions Professor to the curse. Severus regarded himself as skilled enough to survive, and he wouldn't mind if he was given an excuse to stop teaching.

The new Professor was still watching him from the doorway. An adventurer swooping in and stealing the Defence Against the Dark Arts position he rightly deserved had automatically cast her as Gryffindor in his mind. A Sorting further established when she made that crack about the Weasley twins. He was forced to rearrange his worldview. It was unpleasant.

"Very well, what do you want?" He demanded. The infuriating Defence Professor, and why hadn't he thought of changing the name, simply smiled.

"To invite you to bury the staff over a drink this evening in Hogsmeade," she said. Upon seeing his glare, she added, "I'm paying." Severus maintained his glower as he considered the offer. It wasn't as he had anything better to do, and he could order the most expensive glass of fire whiskey in revenge. He gave a brief nod.

"I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks at eight-thirty then," Camelia Castor said, undaunted. Severus lowered his gaze to the piles of summer homework he was marking. Fortunately, she received the message and left, despite the Hufflepuff tendencies she was displaying.

To his surprise, Camelia was intelligent company. He could talk to someone knowledgeable in the Dark Arts, who wasn't either a crazed Dark Wizard or a goody-two shoes "Light" Wizard expounding their dangers. Camelia laughed over the term when he mentioned it, understanding there was no such thing as "Light". It was a popular word amongst the ignorant sheep who formed the Wizarding population. A person could refuse to use any Dark magic, but the absence of Dark does not mean Light.

Camelia found she had a better time than expected. Severus was a good conversationalist on topics he was interested in, with fine taste in fire whisky, and although her wallet took a hit she regarded it as money well spent.

Aurora quizzed her at breakfast, over tea the perfect shade of murky-brown. The popular drink of Hogwarts, pumpkin juice, was absolutely revolting and Camelia refused to drink it. Aurora seemed happy to hear of an enjoyable night. A Slytherin herself, she was a friendly acquaintance of the Potions master.

It was during her first class of the day, second year Slytherin and Hufflepuffs, Camelia discovered the unintended consequences of her actions. The Slytherins kept asking her personal questions about her blood status. They seemed to be under the misapprehension their head of house went on a date with her last night. How did they even know they went out together? The Hogwarts rumour mill was terrifyingly efficient. The Hufflepuffs were rather belligerent whenever she asked them to do something, and she gathered they disliked Severus and were snubbing her in revenge.

Camelia increased the frequency and accuracy of her colour-changing charms, which soon shut them up. Still, that only worked on first years practising dodging. Camelia found herself making an announcement in her second year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw class. She proclaimed she was not dating Severus; she'd merely ordered a drink with a colleague. There was no difference in the well-behaved Ravenclaws, but the rude comments from the Gryffindor side died off.

She taught them the best way to get rid of Acromantulas with the few spells they knew. Faced with a single Acromantula, a Petrificus Totalus would suffice. Multiple Acromantulas: run as fast as possible, casting tripping jinxes behind them. This also applied to a human threat. Only about half the class knew the spells, and all could use some more practice. Their curriculum for the next few weeks was set.

On Saturday evening, Harry Potter knocked on her office door for detention. He was rather scrawny, for a hero. Camelia felt a moment of kinship. Plenty of clients laboured under the delusion she had too many X Chromosomes to be a talented mercenary.

She had consulted with Aurora, and discovered most Professor's assigned lines to misbehaving students. This seemed rather unimaginative to Camelia, so she assigned the Boy-Who-Lived to write an essay on alternative solutions he could have taken rather than flying a car to school. Hopefully, he would take a little longer to think next time. She didn't count on it, however; teenagers were not known for their caution.

At first, he seemed stumped, staring blankly at the pristine sheet of parchment. Then inspiration hit. She glanced up from her marking to check on his progress from time to time, as his pen scrawled across the page. She gave him a few tips on writing neatly with a quill, something she herself had struggled with after being raised in the Muggle world.

At the end of the detention, Camelia read through his essay. He explained he'd panicked at the thought of being unable to attend Hogwarts. Flying to Hogwarts on a broom under an invisibility cloak was unfeasible with a trunk in tow. Sending his owl to Hogwarts in search of help was a much more sensible solution, as was waiting for his friend's parents to return once the platform was re-opened and then travelling by Floo.

Camelia was telling Harry about the Knight Bus, which could have taken him to Hogwarts gates, when Harry jumped in his seat.

"What?" he said loudly, interrupting Camelia.

"What's wrong?" Camelia asked, drawing her wand and scanning the room.

Harry gazed at her in confusion, gaze darting about frantically.

"You didn't hear the voice?" He said.

"No. However, although I didn't hear it doesn't mean it wasn't there. What did it say?"

Harry gaped at her, astonished an adult he barely knew would believe him and take him seriously.

"Something about killing," he said, speaking slowly and hesitantly.

"Can you remember more exactly?" asked his Professor, casting detection spells around the classroom.

"Umm, come to me, let me rip you, let me kill you," Harry replied, a bit more confidently. Detection spells coming up empty, Camelia escorted him back to his dormitory, wand at the ready, before leaving to speak with the Headmaster.

He seemed to think the boy had imagined it, although Camelia couldn't tell if he merely wanted her to think that or truly believed it.

While her spells had revealed the only people present were herself and Harry Potter, there were other species able to speak and whose presence couldn't be detected. House Elves, Centaurs and Acromantulas were three such species, all known to live close by.

The intruder could be skilled in concealing magic. Perhaps a seventh-year supporter of Lord Voldemort who wanted to scare the boy who caused his downfall. A simpler solution was a remote messenger; such things existed, the Patronus Charm and a Howler two such examples.

Alternatively, Harry Potter could be developing schizophrenia. She visited Madam Pompfrey to check if there was any history of 'insanity' in his family. The Wizarding world had a very rudimentary understanding of mental illness. The mediwitch told her brusquely to mind her own business.

Camelia set up wards around the Defence classroom, her office and rooms. Initially, she had believed the Hogwarts wards to be adequate protections. Evidently, that was not the case. Particularly if there were enemies from within.


	5. The Cat

Chapter 5: The Cat

The fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class was always trying. Both houses strongly resisted her attempts to beat magic theory into their heads. The Gryffindors felt broader definitions, which could apply to them, were obviously wrong. The Slytherins disliked her airing what they felt was better kept secret, and resented her warnings on the dangers of Dark Magic.

When Camelia used the inhuman appearance of the Dark Lord Voldemort as an example of massive overuse of Dark magic, it led to explosive reactions. The Gryffindors immediately started teasing the Slytherins how they'd grow up to look like that, to which the Slytherins reacted furiously. Spells flew. Camelia panicked. She had no idea how to control a classroom full of disobedient and angry students.

She amplified her voice, and yelled for them to stop. Nothing. One Gryffindor, Lee Jordan, was bleeding profusely from a wound in his arm. Terrence Higgs, a quiet Slytherin whose essays were always thoughtful and insightful, was suffocating under the hair growing charm.

Camelia fell back on her experience fighting large groups of Dark wizards. Generally, not that skilled, but dangerous with 10 to 1 odds.

She doused them all in water with an overpowered Augamenti, then while they were still spluttering handed out Stupefy, Incarecerous and Experlliramus like candy. There were a few less nice spells in there as well. Sine Sensuti caused the victim to become a temporary quadriplegic. Soon, all twenty-one were neutralised.

Camelia stood, breathing heavily, gazing at the unconscious or tied up fourteen-year-olds. She'd overreacted. She'd attacked them like they were fully grown violent Wizards. Quite a few of them were looking at her in fear. She cast a few carefully placed cutting curses to free Terrence, currently unconscious. Lee Jordan flinched when she approached. She conjured a bandage to wrap around his arm.

Camelia freed, awoke, fixed whatever spell damage she could of all the fourth-year students. They remained silent, staring at her. Not in the mood for speeches, she assigned them all detention on Saturday and took five points each.

"Professor, that's Halloween," one of the Weasley's protested. His twin stomped on the protesting Weasley's foot.

"I don't care. Now everyone who needs it, I'll escort you to the Hospital wing. Everyone else, sit here in silence," she said. They looked sufficiently cowed.

Madam Pompfrey was astonished at the sheer number of students she towed behind her. She immediately attacked Lee's bandage, the most serious wound, and started casting healing spells. The other students were sporting various spell damages, extra ears and brightly coloured skin. A very difficult and delicate field, healing, requiring a wide range of skills.

Camelia fully expected to be reprimanded for this incident, so it was a relief at dinner when fellow teachers simply laughed.

"Merlin knows I've felt like hexing the lot a time or two," said Sprout. Minerva promised to have a 'word' with her Gryffindors, in a dire tone promising punishment. Severus said cooly that the Slytherins would be disciplined, which caused the Transfiguration professor to scoff. Apparently, the potions professor was notoriously lenient on his students, particularly when it came to fights with Gryffindors.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, "Ah, the exuberant spirits of youth."

In the small hours of Saturday morning Camelia woke to an alarm; someone had entered the Defence classroom. Could it be? No, Morgana was far away. Last rumours placed her in Eastern Europe, meeting the deadly vampires who ruled those dark forests. Another person entered the classroom. It couldn't be Morgana then. She always liked to do her dirty work alone. Except when I was with her, a little voice whispered. Camelia ignored it.

Her hand automatically found her wand on the nightstand, purposefully within easy reaching distance. With the help of spells to muffle sound and a disillusionment charm Camelia made her way to the classroom.

It was somewhat of a disappointment after her preparations for a fight to find two teenage miscreants. Fred and George Weasley were caught red-handed. How to punish them? With a twitch at the corner of her mouth, she gave her best ear-piercing scream. Fred/George let out a high-pitched shriek.

Camelia removed her concealing spells, struggling to contain her mirth.

"Only me, boys."

Fred and George burst into laughter, part relief, part amusement. She cleared her throat when it went on a little too long. The twins shared a glance.

"Don't tell McGonagall, we'll owe you a favour," one said.

"And we shall never prank in this classroom again," the other added.

They stared at her pleadingly. Camelia certainly didn't miss the loopholes in that last promise. Still, she was thoughtful. It would be good to have allies in the castle, even under duress. The favour of the Weasly twins was no small thing.

"Agreed," she said, "on one condition. What were you going to do?"

There was a sticky substance clinging invisibly to her chair, and Camelia admitted in the privacy of her own mind that she might have fallen for it. Those two were geniuses. Instead she kept a disapproving frown, and remarked on the sloppiness of not checking for wards.

The idea of going back to bed hyped up on adrenaline was unappealing, so she went for a run around the lake as the sky slowly lightened overhead. Before long, Camelia was breathing harshly. She'd let her conditioning slip over the past month, erroneously believing the life of a teacher was safer than that of a mercenary.

At breakfast, Aurora shoved a jug of water her direction. Camelia nodded her thanks to the smirking Astronomy Professor, attempting to appear dignified while downing several glasses of water.

The "exuberant spirits" Dumbledore mentioned were not apparent as the fourth years trudged into detention. There were many longing glances out the window. She assigned them an essay on how to stay safe in a muggle or magical riot, received with a chorus of groans. After four hours she let them go enjoy the holiday and eat themselves sick on sweets. There was more than one nasty glare burnt into her back, and Camelia smiled back with teeth. She was their teacher, not their friend.

The feast was lavish, decadent, and after her early morning run Camelia felt justified in consuming lavish amounts of sweets. When the feast ended students poured out the doors, loud with sugar overdose. Camelia rose to her feet, when suddenly the din died down and the flow of students slowed to a standstill.

Instantly on alert, Camelia shoved through a sea of students with the aid of sharp elbows and authority in time to hear Draco Malfoy shout, "Enemies of the heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

Camelia quickly took in the scene. Three second years. A message on the wall, glimmering suspiciously red in the low light:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE

A hanging, motionless stiff cat beneath it. A puddle of water. No immediate danger.

"Detention, Mr. Malfoy, and fifteen points from Slytherin," she said.

The caretaker, who she was not acquainted with, screamed and threatened a student. Camelia stunned him at the same time the headmaster said sharply, "Argus."

The other teachers had finally arrived on the scene. Camelia disapproved of such slow reaction times, though she supposed as the Defence professor defending the students was her job.

"Was stunning him necessary, my dear?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her.

"I am not 'your' dear and he was threatening to kill a student," Camelia replied. It was a struggle to keep her tone even.

Dumbledore did not deign to respond, he moved past her, towards the cat and students. Gently, he lifted it from the wall into his arms. Camelia was taken back. She would have cast multiple detection charms before doing so, and would have levitated the cat rather than risked touching it. It could be cursed, infectious, any number of things. Either Dumbledore was a fool, he knew more about this than she did, or his detection spells were wandless. Knowing the reputation of the elder, Camelia was disinclined to believe the first option.

"Camelia, take Argus to the hospital wing while we are investigating. Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger, please come to my office."

"I believe my expertise may be of help to you," Camelia said hurriedly. Dumbledore paused mid-stride. "Aurora, if you wouldn't mind?" she asked. The astronomy professor nodded, and levitated the unconscious caretaker. Her face was carefully blank.

"Very well," Dumbledore acquiesced. His voice had hardened from the Grandfatherly drawl, obviously unused to someone challenging his authority.

Camelia cast a quick detection spell, and noticed Dumbledore had already set up wards around the scene. His wand was in his hand. She hadn't even seen him draw it. Evidently, he was no fool.

The heads of Gryffindor and Slytherin were unsubtle in their reactions as they made their way to the headmaster's office. Minerva cast her a disapproving glare, while Severus offered a smirk.

Dumbledore conjured a table, placing the cat tenderly down. The studnets stood back as the Professor's examined the feline. Camelia cast her favoured detection spells, brow furrowed in thought.

"Camelia, would you care to share your opinion?" the headmaster asked. Testing her, after she boldly proclaimed her expertise outweighed his. Camelia refused to regret her rash words. Two talking heads were cleverer than one.

"There is life in it, although it is stiff and does not breathe nor its heart beat. Petrified," she concluded. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. Approving? Disapproving? She continued, "In the late eighteenth century there was a rash of Petrifcations after the Morbidian Murder Curse was invented. Around a hundred witches and wizards were buried alive until people realised they could be revived and the Mandrake Restorative Draught was invented."

"How horrible," Hermione whispered to the boys in the background. Camelia agreed. It was also a fascinating, complex dark curse. It required two simultaneous emotions very hard to feel side by side: apathy and hatred.

She frowned at the cat again. There was something wrong with her theory.

"The cat looks peaceful!" she exclaimed, "All victims of the Morbidian Murder Curse feel agonising pain and are Petrified screaming."

"Very good, Camelia," Dumbledore stroked his beard. "This is something altogether different."

Severus interrupted the moment's silence that fallen, as the cat's fate was contemplated, to enquire how the second years happened across the body. He was evidently playing bad auror, appearing overly suspicious of the young students.

They all launched into an explanation of the Deathday party they were making their way back from, speaking over the top of each other.

"But why not join the feast afterwards? Why go up that corridor?" Severus asked. He surveyed the second years, black eyes shining in the candlelight.

Harry Potter stuttered out an answer about wanting to go to bed. He could be lying, or simply scared of Severus's harsh interrogation tactics.

Severus certainly seemed to think the latter, as he caught the trio in a lie about not being hungry. Apparently, ghosts don't provide edible food for the living. Camelia wondered if he knew that from experience.

Minerva defended the Gryffindors, and with Dumbledore's backing they were released. Innocent until proven guilty. Personally, Camelia doubted the second years were involved, but she also suspected they were concealing some information. It may prove relevant, it may not.

As soon as the three students hurried out the door, Minerva focused on the headmaster, "The chamber of secrets? Is history repeating itself, Albus?"

* * *

AN: Sorry for the late update, I only found my motivation when uni started again. The power of procrastination. Also this is not an evil!Dumbledore story, he is just used to people deferring to him. Please review!


	6. Salazar Slytherin

Chapter 6: Salazar Slytherin

Before heading to bed that night Camelia returned to the scene of the crime, where the bright red letters seemed to glow in the dark. Definitely too bright to be real blood. Camelia cast a few detection spells and sure enough it was a fake conjured substance resembling blood. A shame, as it was possible to track people down using blood, though she heard the practise was forbidden in Britain. As if blood magic had any relation to Dark magic. These crazy British wizards.

She was still annoyed by Dumbledore's vague answer to Minerva's question about history repeating itself and the quick departure of both Professors soon after last night, before Camelia could bombard them with questions of her own. She thought it was rather foolish of them. The teachers should be informed about whatever might be occurring, or how else would they keep the students safe? First thing at breakfast, Camelia would ask Aurora about this chamber of secrets business.

For now, she refocused her attention on the wall. Cleaning charms had no effect on the ominous red letters. Blasting water at it did nothing. Finally, Camelia hit on the solution of conjuring a sheet which she stuck over the message with a sticking charm. No need to give this 'heir' any satisfaction or to scare the students any further.

Camelia looked around the bare stone corridor, noticing the scorch marks on the floor. She cast a few detection spells at them, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. Camelia opened the door to the out of order girl's bathroom, and seeing nothing unusual, headed back to her bed in defeat. Whoever this 'heir' was they certainly hadn't left any conveniently placed clues.

At breakfast, Aurora was digging into some bacon and eggs and a large cup of coffee. As soon as she spotted Camelia she stopped eating, "What did you find? What's happening?" Camelia explained what meagre facts they had been able to uncover; the cat was Petrified, it appeared not to match the Transmorgian Torture curse.

"Couldn't Mrs. Norris have been stunned first, and then cursed?" Aurora asked. "Then she wouldn't feel any pain."

Severus snorted in disgust a few seats down. "Isn't it obvious," he sneered. Both witches levelled him with a glare.

"Good thinking," Camelia replied, ignoring Severus, "but if the cat was stunned first its eyes would be closed, not open."

Finally, Aurora ran out of questions, and Camelia was able to make her own queries.

"So what is this chamber of secrets?"

"According to legend, Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber before leaving the school, where he stored a monster able to kill those he deemed unworthy to be at Hogwarts."

"Muggleborns?" Camelia asked with a frown, and Aurora nodded in confirmation.

"Then how is a cat unworthy?"

Aurora glanced around to make sure no nosy students were eavesdropping, before continuing, "Mrs. Norris belongs to Filch, who is a squib. I suppose he might fit the definition of an enemy."

"Or the cat interrupted the heir in the process of writing the message," Camelia suggested thoughtfully. "What is this about an heir, anyway?"

Aurora shrugged, "Supposedly Slytherin's heir is the only one able to control this monster." Camelia stirred her porridge, deep in contemplation. Prejudice against muggles and muggleborns began when muggles tried to kill anyone suspected of using magic, for 'consorting with the devil'. It was only the very poorly trained witch or wizard they were able to kill, but the hatred soon became mutual. Therefore, there was some justification long ago for prejudice against muggles. Prejudice against muggleborns, however, had no basis in righteousness – it was often the muggleborns who were killed most frequently by the muggles they lived with, their accidental magic revealing them as witches when they were defenceless children. Camelia remembered the daily serving of hexes and curses at Durmstrang she received until she learned to defend herself and felt a rush of anger at Salazar Slytherin. The last thing muggleborn children needed was to be persecuted in the magical world as well.

Camelia remembered Minerva's comment.

"Has anything like this happened before?" she asked.

Aurora frowned, "Not that I've heard of."

Camelia decided to interrogate Minerva later, and get some straight answers out of her. If this chamber of secrets thing escalated to attacks on students, forewarning was vital.

It was a Sunday, so although she really should be marking essays, Camelia prioritised the more immediate concern; research. Camelia was curious to see the famous Hogwarts library for herself. Until now, she had been using her own personal library, stored neatly in her bottomless trunk, for references.

She was impressed by the sheer volume of the Hogwarts library. Shelves towered in a maze impossible to navigate for the uninitiated. It was easily four times the size of the Durmstrang library. She made her way to the librarian's desk. The woman absorbed in a book didn't look familiar at all, so Camelia assumed she had not attended any staff meetings or meals. The woman was stick thin, and a stern air hung around her. Camelia supposed it was effective for intimidating students from treating the library like their personal Quidditch pitch.

"Hello, I don't believe we've met, I'm Camelia, the new defence professor."

The woman didn't look up from her book. Camelia fidgeted in impatience.

Finally, the woman drawled, "Irma Pince."

"I'm looking for information on Salazar Slytherin or the Chamber of Secrets," Camelia kept her voice even and calm with difficulty, refusing to be baited.

The librarian sighed and scribbled some titles down on a blank sheet of parchment, before thrusting it at her.

"Thanks," Camelia said, unable to keep a sarcastic lilt from her voice.

There were five titles on the list. Using the point me spell, Camelia searched for _Hogwarts a History_. After a lengthy stroll she rounded a corner only to find the found the book already being read by a group of Ravenclaws. Resigned, Camelia turned to the next title on the list, _Secrets of Slytherin_ by Maia Brown. The point me spell led her through to a section separated from the rest of the library and guarded with detection wards. A sign indicated it was the restricted section.

Camelia settled down in an armchair by the window overlooking the lake, which gleamed in the sunlight, and opened the old book carefully. Written several hundred years ago, the language was difficult to decipher. Still, she persevered. The book spoke about Slytherin in an almost worshipful light. Camelia learned he was renowned for his ability to speak to snakes and his talent at potion making, as well as being quite skilled in the Dark arts. The book also went into some detail with his relationship to the other founders. In the beginning it appeared the four were good friends and shared a vision which was quite revolutionary at the time – a school for learning magic. Salazar was a pureblood and vowed vegenance against muggles and muggleborns after his daughter fell ill while travelling the English countryside, and was subsequently killed by muggles when they discovered books on witchcraft in her possession. Some time later, Salazar had a heated disagreement with the other founders and left Hogwarts. The book briefly discussed the chamber of secrets but obviously regarded the chamber as a myth and revealed nothing Aurora hadn't already explained.

Eventually, Camelia finished her book, and was surprised to notice the library was practically empty. She checked the time with a silent _Tempus_ and groaned; she'd missed lunch, but dinner wouldn't be for a few hours yet.

She supposed it was time she found the kitchens. Aurora had explained how to find them, but Camelia couldn't help but suspect it was an elaborate practical joke as she tickled the pear. Luckily no spying students were around to see her make a fool of herself.

The portrait swung open, and Camelia was greeted with the sight of house elves furiously scrubbing dishes. One approached her immediately, chest puffed out proudly in a toga displaying the Hogwarts crest. Camelia guessed it was female, though it was hard to tell with House Elves. Camelia hadn't much experience with them, apart from seeing a few around Durmstrang occasionally. It was the pride of the House Elves to be invisible, and Camelia felt an equal pride she'd managed to spot some, practising her own stealth skills.

"What can Minky be doing for Professor Castor?" Her bulbous blue eyes stared hopefully. Hoping for what, Camelia wasn't sure.  
"Hi Minky, I missed lunch, some food would be great thanks," she replied. Immediately, several House Elves in hearing distance ran for the cupboards, opening it to display rows upon rows of ingredients. From the looks of things, Hogwarts could survive a siege.

"Does Professor have a favourite dish?" Minky asked, long ears twitching like a nervous rabbit.

"I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble," Camelia began, but Minky shook her head furiously.

"It be no trouble at all!"

"In that case, a Thai green curry would be nice." Minky beamed and rushed off. Camelia hadn't eaten Thai food in ages. Camelia wasn't sure if House Elves would be familiar with the cuisine, but in fifteen minutes she was presented with a steaming green curry. It was the best she'd ever eaten; creamy, rich, chicken tender and rice perfectly steamed.

She thanked the House Elves and made her way back to her chambers, stopping briefly to knock briefly on the Deputy Headmistress's door.

"Enter." Camelia pushed open the door, finding herself in a brightly lit office. Minerva lay down her quill. She'd obviously interrupted her marking.

"Minerva. I just wanted to ask what you meant last night, when you said the chamber of secrets had been opened before?"

The other woman sighed tiredly, rubbing her glasses.

"When I was a student several muggleborns were petrified, and one student died. The same words were on the wall then, too."

"And they never found the culprit?"

Minerva, paused, as if weighing up how much truth to share. At last she replied, "No. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to return to my marking."

"Of course, sorry for disturbing you." Camelia left, mind churning with suspicion. Minerva obviously knew more than she was saying.

Over the next week, students in her class were also consumed by thoughts of the Halloween incident. At every pause in teaching, they discussed the writing, the petrification, the chamber of secrets. She eavesdropped on them occasionally and learned Harry Potter was considered a suspect by some Hufflepuffs. Camelia disapproved. Honestly kids should use their brains; if the heir was as powerful as people feared, why would he be caught at the scene? They also appeared to forget he'd been accompanied by the others in his trio, including his best friend, the muggleborn.

Camelia herself was investigating several possible angles. She rather doubted there was a monster present somewhere in the school, concluding it would surely have been discovered or died by now. Her focus was on the heir, whoever she or he was. She was attempting to trace Slytherin's family tree, which wasn't as difficult as it sounded. Wizards were obsessed with bloodlines, and there were several books which had done the work for her. The key was searching for families that were still alive. The other avenue she was investigating was the previous opening of the chamber of secrets. Curiously, there was no mention of it in the old editions of the Daily Prophet, and asking around in Hogsmeade, very few people seemed to remember the incident.

Meanwhile, she'd noticed improvements in all her classes, but particularly the early years. The first years entered the classroom on high alert and were becoming quite fast at dodging. The second years had mastered the tripping jinx and the full body bind, and finally learned to dodge when she pointed her wand in their direction for a practical demonstration. Camelia planned on introducing _Expelliarmus_ this lesson.

"What should you do immediately after casting _Expelliarmus_ , and the wand flies from your opponent's hand?" she asked. A few hands came up.

"Yes, Mr. Nott?"

"Curse your opponent when he's defenceless," he volunteered with a grin that seemed a bit sinister for a twelve-year-old. A few of the Gryffindors booed.

"That's just the dirty trick a Slytherin would say," Ron Weasley shouted.

"Five points from Gryffindor for speaking out of turn," Camelia said. "In fact, Mr Nott is correct, two points to Slytherin. The moment the wand leaves your opponent's hand, you are in control of the duel. With the spells you've learnt, what would be the best one to cast next?"

Hermione Granger waved her hand eagerly, "The full-body bind, Professor, so the opponent cannot retrieve their wand."

"Correct, two points to Gryffindor. And the next step?" Hermione's smile wavered. It was Harry Potter beside her who, brow furrowed in thought, offered an answer.

"Pick up their wand?"

"Two points to Gryffindor," Camelia smiled as the boy's face lit up. "Removing their wand removes your opponent permanently. As second years, the summoning charm is too advanced for you, but you can pick the wand up physically. A master of the _Expelliarmus_ can cast the spell such that their opponent's wand flies towards them and won't even have to move."

She paired up students and instructed them to practice the spell on each other, but not before casting cushioning charms everywhere. An overpowered Expelliarmus could blow an opponent backwards. Immediately, the class was filled with shouts and jets of light. Few appeared to hit their opponent. Camelia sighed. She really needed to work on their aiming.

After class, she was surprised when Hermione approached, holding a sheet of parchment in a trembling hand, and trailed by Ron and Harry.

"Professor Castor? I remembered what you were saying about dangerous potions the other day, and I want to borrow this book from the library to learn more about them," Hermione said in a rush. "The thing is, it's in the restricted section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it?"

Camelia took the note from the girl, peering at the title. Most Potente Potions.

"I believe this book contains recipes for the potions, not information on the dangers of the potions themselves, Ms. Granger."

"Told you she wouldn't fall for it," the red-head muttered, at a level Camelia suspected was meant to be inaudible. Hermione turned red, "Never mind then, Professor."

Camelia watched in amusement as the children practically ran out of the door. Kids these days. No subtlety.

* * *

AN: Sorry about the wait! Please leave a review and let me know what you think.


	7. The Quidditch Match

Chapter 7: The Quidditch Match

Warnings: mention of attempted rape

* * *

Camelia was surprised at Saturday breakfast by the atmosphere of anticipation. There were more students up than usual at this time, and they were all chattering excitedly.

"What's going on?" she asked Aurora.

Her friend gave her a bemused look. "Have you been living under a rock? First Quidditch game of the season. Gryffindor versus Slytherin."

Camelia supposed she had been distracted lately, with settling into teaching and investigating this Chamber of Secrets business. She was half listening as Aurora went into lecture mode, as she tended to do, describing the player's capabilities, the long Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry. It was only when Aurora was silent that Camelia looked up from her toast.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Aurora rolled her eyes.

"You're coming to the match with me and showing some some house pride," she demanded. Camelia acquiesced, the steely glance Aurora levelled her making it clear saying no wasn't an option. To be honest, Camelia never went to the Quidditch matches at Durmstrang, finding the sport rather boring and the matches dragging on for way too long.

Still, Camelia changed into her green robes and met Aurora in the teacher's stand. Dumbledore was sitting in the row in front of them, and Camelia paused for a moment to take in his eye-watering scarlet robes with gold stars shooting across the fabric. No guesses required for which team he was supporting.

Cheers from the crowd alerted her, and she watched as red and green figures shot onto the pitch. As the game began, Aurora began pointing out certain manoeuvres and formations, eyes fixed on the pitch. Suddenly she screamed in approval. Slytherin scored! Camelia regarded Aurora with amusement. She'd no idea her friend was such a Quidditch fanatic.

Camelia returned her attention to the game. There was something odd going on with Harry Potter. The bludger kept targeting him specifically, returning again and again as the Gryffindor beaters tried fruitlessly to bat it away. Around her, the other teachers were also murmuring.

"Someone's jinxed that bludger," hissed Minerva, anger radiating from every pore. As if in reaction, the rain clouds opened, water droplets splattering on the unprepared teachers. Camelia quickly cast an Impervious charm on herself, and the other teachers followed suit. The game continued. Slytherin scored two more goals in quick succession before the Gryffindor captain finally called for a time out. Harry, by some miracle of the Weasley twins, had avoided being slammed with the metal ball gunning for him.

Camelia watched as Madam Hooch walked briskly towards the Gryffindor team. Naturally, she assumed this bludger business was going to be sorted out. She was taken aback as Madam Hooch blew her whistle without inspecting the bludger and the Gryffindor team lifted into the air.

"What's happening? Why isn't Madam Hooch fixing the bludger?" she turned to Aurora.

"Quidditch rules. No-one is permitted to cast spells on the balls once the game begins. Not even the referee. And a game can only be investigated for tampering if a team forfeits," Aurora replied, a frown marring her delicate features.

The Gryffindor team changed their strategy. No longer did Fred and George guard Harry like a mother bear looking out for her cub, but focused on the other bludger, their bats connecting with an audible thunk as they sent it spinning into Slytherin players. Meanwhile, Harry performed dizzying acrobatics, playing a dangerous game with the bludger who had it out for him.

Inevitably, he couldn't dodge quite fast enough, and the bludger connected with a sickening crack. Camelia assumed that Harry would leave the pitch, but instead the boy dived towards the opposing seeker. Malfoy, Camelia thought. That blonde hair was distinctive. Harry's arms left his broom, closing around something glittering.

"He's caught the snitch!" Minerva exclaimed, rising from her seat in excitement.

"He's caught the snitch," Aurora repeated gloomily. She and Severus exchanged commiserating looks.

Then Harry crash landed on the ground, lying unmoving. From afar Camelia watched as Harry was surrounded by his teammates before coming to, cradling his arm. He was promptly hustled off to the hospital wing by concerned teammates and friends. Crazy these Quidditch players, the lot of them.

"An eventful match," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. Camelia snorted. Eventful was one word for it.

After a quick lunch in the kitchens, Camelia settled in to do some marking. After three months at Hogwarts, she'd finally mastered the art of deciphering the students' sprawling handwriting and random ink splotches. She'd assigned the sixth years an essay on duelling strategies, and a few appeared to have some ideas she thought might be worth trying out in an actual duel. Bletchley suggested a hair-growing charm, serving the doubble purpose of blinding and tripping your opponent.

At dinner Camelia spotted Harry Potter over at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by admiring classmates. Madam Hooch filled in the rest of the teachers on her investigation. No traces of tampering were found on the bludger. She sought advice from Dumbledore, but he found nothing unusual either. Yet the bludger had clearly been messed with.

"I just don't understand it," the Quidditch coach said, shaking her head in confusion. Camelia thought about putting herself forward to investigate the incident, as she had done for the petrified cat, but cursed objects were not an area she had much experience in. Duelling, Dark spells to use on people, vicious monsters, those were her areas of expertise.

After dinner, Camelia thought she deserved a break, so she headed to Hogsmeade with Aurora where they ordered a bottle of firewhisky. The burning liquid kept conversation flowing until two am, when they staggered back to the castle, pleasantly drunk.

Camelia awoke late the next morning with a pounding headache. Groaning, she headed down to the kitchens for a cup of tea and a piece of buttered toast, having missed breakfast. It wasn't till lunch she found out from Severus, Aurora presumably sleeping in, that first year Gryffindor Colin Creevey had been Petrified last night.

"Why was he targeted?" she asked Severus.

"Very irritating boy," he replied nastily. At her glare, he continued, "Creevey was a muggleborn, an enemy of the heir."

"So you're sure his attacker is the same person who Petrified the cat, this heir of Slytherin."

"Obviously," drawled Severus. Camelia turned her attention back to her food, refusing to put up with him being obnoxious. She would investigate on her own.

"There's a staff meeting tonight," he added, and Camelia was drawn into conversation again. Severus added little to her findings on the attacks but pointed out that so far, the heir had targeted the relatively defenceless – a cat and a first year.

After lunch, she made her way to the hospital wing. Madam Pompfrey sniffed in disapproval but let her in to examine Colin. He was in the same state as Mrs. Norris; stiff, unblinking, not breathing. His frozen form revealed no immediate clues, so Camelia left to investigate the scene of the crime. A staircase, in between the kitchens and the hospital wing. Nothing was out of place. No identifying clues left behind, like a convenient strand of hair. Camelia sighed in frustration.

Her investigation into the heir had hit multiple dead ends. Her genealogy research revealed no surviving descendants of Salazar Slytherin, the line ending with Morfin Gaunt some while ago. Furthermore, the Gaunts had not attended Hogwarts in generations.

Camelia returned to her marking, but couldn't concentrate properly, waiting in anticipation for the staff meeting.

Finally, it was nearing eight, and Camelia hurried down to the staff room, collapsing on a soft couch next to Aurora. Dumbledore was standing at the front of the room. He surveyed the assembled teachers over his half-moon spectacles.

"Someone is attacking our students," he said gravely. "I would like all of you to watch for unusual behaviour or changes of behaviour in your students."

The room was silent. No-one appeared to question these orders. Camelia's hand automatically tightened around her wand. Dumbledore knew more than he was saying. Unusual behaviour – that implied the Imperious curse, compulsion or possession. Outside influence. Dumbledore must have reason to believe it wasn't one of the students acting on their own initiative. She cornered him after the meeting, ignoring Aurora's enquiring glance.

"Is there something you're not telling us about the culprit?" she demanded. Dumbledore raised his hands, placating.

"Only vague suspicions, nothing more," he replied calmly.

"What about this previous attack fifty years ago? What can you tell me about that?" she asked. She was determined to wring answers from the frustrating old man.

Dumbledore sighed, "Minerva told me you had been asking about that. Sometimes digging up the past does more harm than good."

Camelia kept her face set. She refused to budge. "Maybe, or maybe it will provide a vital clue to stop someone dying this time around."

"Very well," Dumbledore said, as he leaned back on his plush armchair. "The exact same message appeared on the wall. Three students were Petrified. All muggleborns. Near the end of year, a muggleborn student was killed."

"What did the students say upon wakening?"

"Unfortunately, all were disorientated emerging from their Petrification, and could not recall their attack."

"How was the student killed? Who were they?" she asked. This could be a key; the others Petrified, one killed. Did the heir decide to escalate? Did he have a grudge against a particular student?

"Myrtle Warren died with no obvious cause. This would suggest the killing curse, yet I found no traces of Dark magic where the attack took place." Dumbledore's voice was grave.

"Why did the attacks stop?" she asked. Dumbledore stroked his beard.

"I must ask that what I am about to tell you be revealed to no-one else." Camelia nodded her agreement.

"Hagrid was found harbouring an acromantula inside the castle. The headmaster at the time believed he was the heir of Slytherin and expelled him. Subsequently, the attacks stopped."

Camelia's thoughts whirled. The groundskeeper always seemed so friendly over meals. They had quite a few discussions on various magical creatures, though he seemed to be deluded as to the dangers posed by some creatures, and seemed upset she killed them regularly. Harbouring an acromantula was certainly a dangerous thing to do - the giant spiders were vicious, and their venom could paralyse. However, from her understanding the victims were aware of their surroundings when paralysed, and their heart still beat, their lungs still breathed.

"Where there any bite marks found on the victims?"

"No."

"And so, Hagrid is innocent?" she asked. Dumbledore regarded her with something like respect.

"I have full faith in Hagrid," he replied.

Camelia bade goodbye to Dumbledore, out of questions for now. She had learned so much more, yet she wasn't sure if she was any closer to catching the 'heir'.

Her students on Monday seemed equally distracted as herself, as they discussed in furious whispers the attack on Colin Creevey. Camelia only managed to rouse herself from her whirling thoughts in time for her final class of the day; fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin. Today she would be teaching them how to resist the Imperious curse. Of course, she couldn't actually cast the Imperious curse on them. Instead she would be dosing them with love potions.

A love potion, on the surface, had little similarity with the Imperious. But both changed the behaviour of the person subjected to them, made them do things they would never otherwise do. Personally, Camelia felt a love potion could be just as insidious as the Imperious curse. Several cases had been found where victims were doused with love potions for years, marrying, having a family, under the influence of artificial love. Rape of the body and a rape of the soul.

In her fourth year at Durmstrang, Camelia was doused with love potion by a seventh-year boy. In 'love' she would have done anything for him, and he was fully prepared to take advantage of that. Thankfully, her potions lab partner, Morgana, noticed her acting strangely and took her to the hospital wing. Claiming he just wanted to have a laugh, the boy escaped with a detention. After that incident, she and Morgana became firm friends, the debt of gratitude Camelia felt and a hatred of love potions binding them together. Camelia smiled wistfully at the memory of Morgana hexing the boy's eyeballs to fall out in revenge.

The fourth-years looked distinctly nervous as they stared at the pale-yellow potions on their desks. It was quite a mild dose, really, and they'd receive the antidote soon enough. She made the focus of the potion herself, so their reactions would be obvious.

"The key to resisting is self-awareness. You must realise that the potion is changing your thoughts, your behaviour. Only once you have self-awareness, can you resist."

The Weasley twins were the first to drink. "Bottom's up," they said in unison. Their fellow Gryffindor's quickly downed theirs, not to be outdone. All the Gryffindors immediately began beaming idiotically at her. No Slytherin moved to drink theirs.

"Drink, or I'll force it down your throats," she told them. Reluctantly, they followed suit.

She watched her students for a while, marking down different reactions. Some had very little resistance, shouting out how much they loved her. Others were more constrained. Camelia noticed Angelina Johnson had her eyes screwed tightly shut and appeared to be muttering under her breath. Curious, Camelia cast an eavesdropping charm.

"I love her, I love her not," the fourth year was repeating. Camelia smiled in approval.

Handing out the antidote, many students immediately turned red in embarrassment. Camelia maintained a straight face, though some of their antics, such as Graham Montague dancing in the misguided notion it would impress her, were hilarious. She assigned an essay on what their reactions were, and how they could improve their resistance for next time. The class stampeded out of the room, no doubt to spread the news of her evilness and their classmates embarrassing antics. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fourth years would be forewarned tomorrow.

Camelia made her way down to Hagrid's hut in the fading light. The cabin looked homely, with a flourishing garden and smoke pouring out the chimney. She hurt her knuckles rapping on the thick wooden door.

"Who's there?" Hagrid's voice boomed.

"Camelia Castor, the Defence Professor," she replied. A pause, then the door swung open.

"What did yeh want?" He asked gruffly, but not unkindly.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you about the Chamber of Secrets."

"I don't know nothing," Hagrid said angrily, huge face contorting, and slammed the door.

"I don't think you are the heir," Camelia called, but she was met with silence. She sighed and trudged back up to the castle. She probably could've handled that better.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Camelia repeatedly tried to talk to Hagrid, but to no avail. As soon as he saw her coming, he marched off in the opposite direction, and she couldn't keep up with his giant strides.

Classes continued. Most of the fourth years were able to resist the love potion on the third attempt. The seventh years were growing increasingly frazzled with the workload she was pushing on them in preparation for their N.E.W.T.s. Camelia watched all her students closely for unusual behaviour. The problem was, she had only been teaching them a few months. She was clueless what would construe 'unusual behaviour'. For example, Draco Malfoy appeared to be growing increasingly paranoid, very quick to draw his wand and letting out a startled shriek when Gregory Goyle surprised him. Paranoia could be a sign of possession, so Camelia resolved to keep a close eye on the second-year Slytherin.

* * *

A.N.: A quick update this time! Still sticking closely to the book, but that should change soon. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and yes I am aware of mistakes in previous chapters but it might take me a while to get around to fixing them.


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